“It is unlawful to say that,” the princess scolded. “Such scorn is not permitted here among us. A woman is invested with her husband’s honour. It is a sin to cast up what she did before her marriage. Thy boast is simply thou wast better guarded. Praise God for that, but do not scorn those others!”
Barakah loved them none the more for this rebuke.
In her new dwelling she had three reception-rooms. The gilt salon was kept for very ceremonious visitors. Her intimates were welcomed in a large apartment with cushioned dais and divans round the wall, where she herself was wont to sit with Umm ed-Dahak, though sometimes they would camp upon the housetop under sunshades.
All kinds of suitors came to the selamlik to see Yûsuf; and most of these brought presents, some of which were left at the haramlik entrance to bespeak the intercession of the lady. Ghandûr was made the steward of the house; he and his wife, who still attended on Muhammad, inhabiting a room close by. Barakah was glad to hear his voice again. As a relative by milk, he was allowed sometimes to kiss her hand and raise his chant of honour in her presence.
The winter following her change of residence Barakah was once more brought to bed. The whole household had been praying for another boy; Muhammad had been taught to lisp, “A boy, in sh´Allah!” every time he saw his mother. Umm ed-Dahak had desired her mistress might produce boys only, because, she said, some of the brood were sure to die, and were all boys there was less likelihood of being left with girls alone, like Leylah Khânum. But a girl it proved to be. Muhammad shook his little fist at the intruder, shouting, “Daughter of a dog, who bade thee enter?” There was little joy at her reception in the world, and that little raised to cheer the mother’s spirits.
“It is no matter,” chuckled Umm ed-Dahak, whose optimism triumphed over every obstacle.
“A girl comes not amiss; she has her uses. Since some are bound to die in early childhood, it is as well in every family to have a few who can be spared. And Yûsuf Bey will thank thee for this gift. The fathers always like to have a girl or two.”
“Why should some die? In sh´Allah, both of mine will be preserved!” wailed Barakah.
“In sh´Allah! Yet if all the children born were to survive, there soon would not be room to move in our great houses. For example, take the palace of our lord the Pasha, thy good father. Let me see!” She sat in thought and counted on her fingers: “Murjânah Khânum bore him twenty at the least—all dead; Fitnah Khânum more than that—say thirty—of whom six alive. The mother of Ali—she that was a slave—ten at the least, three living. Then there was another concubine ...”